The Silent Killer
by PERSONALPROBLEMS
Summary: Daymarix is chosen by Truth to cross into Amestris after the Promised Day. Truth makes a deal, unwanted by her, that may cost more than she can afford. What will happen before her time runs out? A chance meeting with the Elrics may let her see the silver lining of her dark clouds. EdxOC AlxWin. Rated T but may change.


The Silent Killer

Chapter One: The Last Days

I couldn't believe what the doctor had just told me. It has been five years. Five fucking years, and we thought that it was finally gone. We thought that I was out of the red, and in the green, without a worry. I have been cleared for over a year now. Then, out of the blue…. another fainting episode had come. I haven't had an episode since three months before they cleared me. Now they say that it returned full force. They say that I may not reach my next birthday. I am only seventeen, and I may not reach legal adulthood.

My parents have been crying off and on since we were told. I had been fighting the battle for so long, and we had believed that I had won, yet the truth was revealed. And the truth hurts. I think it hurt them more than it did me. My father actually punched a hole in the wall, and they had to move me into a different room. They want to keep me here for surveillance for at least another week, maybe longer.

Me? I might as well have been sleeping when they told me. I was in shock. It seemed as if the whole world had shut down when I heard the news. I think I knew it though, that all along it had never truly gone away. It sat in silence, and waited like some sick predator, in the shadows, and now it finally made an appearance. I knew this day would come, when I could start counting the hours left before I die. I also thought that it was why I was almost at peace with it.

My younger brother hadn't been told yet. He was so innocent and sweet. The news would have shattered his dreams. He said that he wanted to grow up and become a doctor so he could "save his big sis from the evil sick monsters so she can sing all she wants." Too bad that the kind of monsters I had are virtually unstoppable. Simon was only five, and had been blessed with a healthy life. I was just glad that he wouldn't have to go through what I did. It would have broken my heart to hear such a thing.

I was diagnosed when I turned six, and have been fighting since. A month before I turned fourteen, they said I was clear. I said that it was the best birthday gift that I could receive. Since two, I would have "episodes". I would either faint or I would have severe migraines that caused me to remain home from school for days at a time. And as I got older the episodes became more frequent. When had tried many kinds of chemo and therapy, but now that it has come back, it's too late. Cancer is a bitch, isn't it?

It reminds me of a song by the Rascal Flatts, called "Skin", also known as "Sarabeth". The girl is diagnosed with cancer, and the treatments cause her hair to fall out. The treatments I went through did the same. The song never does say if her hair ever returns, but just like the end of the song, it keeps you guessing. I think that they wanted you to believe in her and have the hope that she did live. Not long after the treatments started, my hair, like in the song, had just started to fall out. I was only seven, and didn't really understand.

Even after treatments stopped when I was fourteen, my hair never grew longer than a few inches. It never bothered me, though, especially when the other girls in school always fussed about their hair or makeup. I never wore that either. Girls use makeup to help cover acne and blemishes, yet the makeup only makes it harder for your skin to breath, which causes you to have more problems. Obviously that wasn't thought out very well. I never wore makeup, and I have never had to fuss over acne except for an infected hair once or twice on my face. Worrying about your looks isn't that important to me. Especially now.

Sarabeth also gets to go to the prom with her boyfriend, who had shaved his head to show her that she isn't alone. I never went to prom. Loud music, crowds, and too much movement made episodes even worse than they already were. So instead I stayed at home and worked on writing songs, or singing.

When I was in junior high, I started singing. My chorus teacher said that my voice was amazing. I never entered competitions because they were always loud and crowded. I sang my little brother to sleep almost every night instead. I had taken to playing the guitar after I had turned a "responsible age" for me to take care of one. I was ten. I practice singing and playing every night before bed.

I actually played in the talent show at my school… once, and I almost passed out on stage. Thankfully I went to a school that had a maximum of, say, a hundred students at most that stood in the middle of nowhere. It doesn't get too crowded. Plus the amount of people there who actually attend things like a talent show dwindles to around thirty or forty on a good night.

"Daymarix," My mom walked into the hospital room. Her emerald eyes were still moist with unshed tears. We were alone. My dad took my little brother went out to get something to eat, and bring food back. Hospital food sucked.

Yeah, that is what my mother named me. They had some sort of agreement about naming their children. Mom got to name the girls and Dad got to name the boys. Lucky for them they each got their turn. I have no idea where or what gave her the idea of naming me Daymarix, "Day-muh-ree". Thankfully my Dad was more grounded with his decision.

Weird names aside, they were the best parents in the world. When I had asked them to not treat me any different than a "non-cancer-infested child", exact words, they complied. They told me and Simon, every night before bed, that they loved us both. We ate meals at the table, and I continued to go to school, at least as long as I could, at my persistence. The school actually made fund to pay for almost half of the treatments I needed.

"Yeah?"

"You know that we will always love you right? No matter what happens."

"Yes… but... did something happen?" Oh, no. She was going to tell me more bad news.

"Well… Yes." I braced myself for the news. "The doctor said that the treatments.. they've stopped working. They have tried all they can, and nothing is working. I'm... s-sorry." She was letting the tears flow now. The next thing I knew, I was enveloped by her gentle arms in a hug that only a mother can master. "I'm so, so sorry, Day."

The news didn't surprise me. Within the last two weeks, I had only gotten weaker. I wasn't allowed to leave the bed from the doctors fearing that I would collapse. I couldn't walk on my own if I tried. I guess the news didn't really affect me because I had already accepted an early death.

"Why are you apologizing?" It wasn't her fault, and I intended to tell her.

"I just wish that there was something we could do. I failed you as a mom. Mothers protect their children. They make sure that their children live longer than they do."

"There is nothing you can do, and I already accepted that," She looked shocked. "Really, Mom? I know what you are trying to say, but sometimes life is taken early, and I still remember the exact words you told me. I am sure you remember."

She had always given me a motherly philosophy when times got tough, and I guessed that this time, she needed to hear someone tell her these words of wisdom. "I'll throw your pearls of wisdom right back at you, Mom." I pushed her raven locks away from her face and wiped her tears. "When a child is taken early from Mother Earth, then her child was needed elsewhere. She knows that her children have fulfilled their purpose, and sends them to make more lives."

After my little motivational speech, I noticed that my dad and brother had entered the room sometime while I had been talking. I gave my dad a sad smile as Simon crawled up onto the bed to sit next to me. Later Mom had shared the bad news with the rest of the family. Dad had an emotional breakdown. I hugged him as he cried.

We spent the next five days reminiscing upon old occurrences, and laughing at funny stories. I started sleeping more and more, and I wasn't the only one who noticed. Not once during that time did I have a fainting episode. On the sixth night, I knew that If I closed my eyes, I wouldn't have the strength to open them again. My parents knew too. Simon finally caught on that something was seriously wrong the day before. I kept repeating the same three words to them until my final breath.

"I love you."

Then I was surrounded by white.


End file.
